You're Kidding! Summer Camp?
by OneWingedSeer
Summary: Why was it that Matt and TK got sent to the same summer camp if their parents were divorced? Here's my take on the matter, so its AU. Placed a few months before the beginning of the first season.


"You really need to open up every once in a while, Matt. Try making some friends your own age," my Dad said as he plopped down at the kitchen table. His tone was more frustrated than anything; that after work voice I had gotten used to not taking all too seriously.

I stirred the rice with perhaps more vigor than it really needed. "I'm fine. Alright Dad? Just let it go." I glanced at the sink, wincing at the dangerous pile of torture already sitting there. With a smile deviously slipped in, I said, "If you truly want to be fatherly all of the sudden, you can do the dishes."

Dad laughed, running his hands through his dark brown hair and shook his head. "Now wait a second. Why do I have to do the dishes?"

With a click, I turned off the stove and lifted the pan over to the table, grabbing the soy sauce on the way. "Because. I've cooked for the last three nights. You owe me one night at least." I set the pan on the table and turned around to get the bowls and chop-sticks from the drying rack where dishes most often were located.

Dad sighed and turned back to his weary voice, the one he used when trying to wheedle something out of me. "Yeah. I'll do the dishes. You sure drive a hard bargain, young man. Some of those things look like they've been there since school started eight months ago."

After setting the dishes on the table, I poured myself some milk and shrugged. "You started it by trying to act fatherly. I was just supplying a useful outlet for your energies. Besides," I gave Dad a wink to make sure he wouldn't get mad at me when I was just joking. "The dishes from the start of school were _yours_ in the first place."

I finally settled down to my place at the table grabbing the rest of the rice mixture after Dad had taken his share. It was a few moments into shoveling the rice that I realized he had not laughed. Not that I really cared. Of course I didn't care. It just was his usual behavior to laugh at those sorts of things.

When I glanced over, the chopsticks were absentmindedly making their way around Dad's plate, never reaching his mouth. My father was staring away from the table, dark eyes unfocused.

"Dad, what is it?" I asked with a trace of apprehension, wondering if I had anything to be worried about. Come to think of it, he often got that same detached look right before he announced something big.

With a clatter, Dad set down the chopsticks and suddenly said, "Matt, I'm serious about that thing I said earlier."

I had a feeling what he was going to bring up, but I decided to try distracting him from saying it. "What? Some of the dishes were actually from when school started? Awesome!" I said with a distinctly sarcastic air.

He looked straight at me, a bit of a frown on his face. In way too solemn of a voice, he said, "No. The thing I said about you trying to make friends your own age."

Oh great. Not this again. I smiled as innocently as I could and lifted my hands in a slightly defensive gesture. "Dad. I'm fine. Really. I don't need a bunch of kids my age hanging around. We don't get along too well at school and so I don't bring them home, okay? You sure don't bring your coworkers home either." I sighed. Dad had been this way almost every single day since the call from the school had come last week.

I winced, remembering the phone call. My teacher had gotten a hold of my Dad to tell him about my deficiencies. Like it was her business anyway.

It was all because I told some soccer player that he was a self-centered jerk. We hadn't even fought about it, so what was the big deal? Yet, it was following that little spat that my teacher had deemed me 'socially inept' and contacted Dad. Now he was on some terrible father kick where he believed I needed some peers to hang out with.

Dad put his hands together in a fist to create his favorite chin-resting-sermon pose. I had seen it plenty of times before and braced myself as he lectured, "Look, Matt. I know you've changed a lot ever since the divorce and you haven't gotten along with other kids so well. But you don't know what you're missing. Life without a friend is like living colorblind."

I folded my arms behind my gelled, blonde hair, leaning back and defiantly saying, "Colorblind people live great lives too."

Dad sighed, moving his forehead to rest on his combined hands. "Yes. But it makes life more worthwhile and much fuller to have color."

I continued to stare into my rice, not bothering with comments. What was the point? He wasn't going to listen to me anyway. I breathed out a soft, "Whatever…"

"Your brother has been having a lot of the same problems, you know."

I looked up at Dad, curious despite myself. "TK?"

Dad nodded, still not looking at me. His voice had tension from these dangerous waters. "Yes. TK. I got a note from his third grade teacher saying that he is not 'well adjusted' and does not 'interact adequately.'"

I nodded. Poor TK. My brother probably felt the same way about others that I did. None of the school kids compared to the relationship we had had as brothers. Every other friendship I tried for seemed shallow and pointless. If my parents hadn't split us up in the first place there wouldn't be this problem.

In an even more stressed voice, Dad continued, "Your mother has offered a suggestion for the both of you."

Great. Now there was a solution to the problem of having two sons. Why would they bother with having two kids if we were such a terrible burden? Still, I managed to school my tone and expression to indifference pretty well. "Yeah. What's that, Dad?"

Dad got up, taking the dirty dishes to the sink to have some sort of action. Not that I could really blame him deep down. How _had_ Mom contacted Dad, anyway? "Your mother had the idea that both of you get shipped off to the same summer camp here in two months, right after fifth grade."

"You're kidding," I exploded. "Summer camp? Like where a whole bunch of kids go up on a mountain and sing 'Kum-bay-yah' while roasting marshmallows?" I wasn't sure whether to laugh or simply walk out of the room.

"Yeah. Something like that," he said gruffly, starting to scrub the dishes.

"So, do I get leave if I play nice with all the other kids?" I replied with an ample dose of sarcasm.

That was apparently the last straw. Dad slammed the bowls into the counter-top and threw the sponge into the rinsing water, spraying soap and ceramic onto the kitchen floor. "Look, Matt! I work over sixty hours a week and can't be here for you this summer. You need to try to make friends. It'd keep you from holing up and playing that blasted harmonica all day and you might like it if you gave it a real chance. I don't know what else to do with you and unless you have a better idea, you're going. End of story. Okay?"

I got up, muttering a soft, "Yeah. Whatever, Dad," and left the room to walk around outside. At least I'd get to see TK, but what was Dad thinking?

I was fine without friends. I didn't need anyone. And it seemed no one needed me. The perfect balance.


End file.
